Puzzled
by my mulligan
Summary: I didn't know that I was looking for something at all, or that the thing I was looking for was right in front of me.  Nick/Greg
1. Chapter 1

**Puzzled**

**Chapter One: Dance Hall Daze**

They had finally brought the case to a conclusion. Greg wasn't sure they ever would; of course part of his lack of faith stemmed from the fact that he hadn't had a good chance to study the back of his eyelids in almost forty hours. He was beyond exhausted, but so, so glad the case was over, and that he had more than proved his worth. He still had bouts of insecurity regarding his place on the team, misguided though they may be. But he had proved himself this time, bringing in and processing some of the most critical evidence and even outdistancing his colleagues…they'd all been able to take breaks and rest. And now, he just needed to get home to that wonderful, soft, amazing bed.

It was not to be, at least not yet. Sara and Catherine begged and pleaded and wheedled him to go celebrate with the crew. That didn't convince him, but the good natured teasing finally did. He agreed to go as long as he didn't have to drive…he was so tired he was already too impaired. Sara agreed to get him there and promised to find him a way home, even if she had to spring for a cab. Thus decided, the team made it's way to a club Catherine recommended, where the music pounded and the drinks flowed easily.

Grissom snagged them a table with a good view of the floor, choosing to take a seat in the corner and settle in to people watch. The girls each had a drink and ordered one for Greg, though he only sipped at it. The rest of the team filtered in, grabbing a drink and eventually heading for the dance floor. The girls each grabbed one of Greg's hands and pulled him with them, Grissom laughing as Greg ineffectually tried to bat them off. Once the three of them had made it to the floor, Nick sauntered in and took a seat next to Gris.

"Not dancing tonight, Nicky?" Grissom queried, after Nick had placed an order with the waitress for a light beer.

"The Texas Two-Step is a little more my speed Gris," Nicky yelled over the swell of the music. " Where's the rest of the team?"

Instead of answering verbally, Grissom merely nodded his head towards the dance floor. Nick grinned as he watched Greg mock dirty dance with both Catherine and Sara. "He really proved invaluable, didn't he?" Grissom asked loudly. Nick cocked his head at his supervisor, confused, as he took the beer the waitress handed him. "Greg. He's still thinks he needs to prove himself. He's been on the clock for the last two days, straight. He didn't go home when you guys did…he stayed and helped in the lab." Nick raised his eyebrows and stuck out his bottom lip, impressed, as he took a swig from his bottle and looked out towards the floor. He watched, tired but not exhausted, but still mesmerized as the house lights lowered and the colored spot lights played the floor. The music changed, and Greg broke off from the girls to dance on his own with an expression on his face like he knew the song, it had special meaning or it was an old favorite. Soon a small group of people formed around Greg though he seemed ignorant to the fact, his eyes closed, his bottom lip between his teeth, and his hands in the air as he moved to the music.

Nick found himself standing on the edge of the dance floor, though he didn't remember standing up or moving away from their table. He glanced back at Grissom quickly, who merely nodded him on. Another moment and he was standing in front of Greg, his eyes still closed. Nick marveled at how the other man moved and how other dancers would edge into his space and move against him; Greg would never open his eyes but would dance a few steps with them as if it had been choreographed that way, then move on. After what seemed like hours but was only a few seconds, Greg turned his way and opened his eyes, looking _into_ Nick with something akin to bafflement. Nick felt his heart stop.

Greg felt almost stoned, he was so tired. And yet, he somehow kept moving on the dance floor with the girls. He drifted away from them, though, as the lights dimmed and an old favorite with a heavy bass line thrummed through the speakers. He felt the vibrations through to his sternum, and in that moment, numbed by exhaustion, eyes closed, his whole world pulsed. Until he opened his eyes to see his colleague standing in front of him with an almost unidentifiable look in his eye. In that instant, Greg felt like his heart, or time itself, had stopped. It couldn't have, though, as he could feel his pulse throbbing heavily at his neck, sure that anyone looking could see it pulsing from a mile away. But something in his chest clenched to see something so…unexpected. In the microseconds he took processing it, he thought it might be desire…but then he discarded that. Desire was too refined, too Harlequin Romance, too…something. This was so much more primal. Want. That was the word that Greg decided was reflected in his colleagues eyes. Pure, unadulterated, painful want. Like a starving man looking at seven course meal. Greg tipped his head, confused. Nick blinked. From somewhere behind Greg someone rocked into him and his attention diverted, for just a moment. When he turned back around, Nick was nowhere in sight. Greg shook his head, groggy. He panicked for a moment, thinking maybe he'd been drugged. He looked towards the bar, then the stage, and focused his eyes sharply. No, he seemed coherent. He shook his head and headed for the bar. After snagging the bartender he headed back to their table and slouched down in the seat next to his supervisor.

"Having fun, Greg?" Greg nodded at this, but said nothing, still feeling a bit confused. "You did a great job on this case. I appreciate it." Greg smiled his thanks at this.

"Boss, I need a favor," he started as the waitress starting putting glasses on the table. Grissom raised a graying eyebrow in question. "Put me in a cab in thirty minutes, will you?" Greg slid one of the glasses full of whiskey towards his supervisor, who nodded thanks, and lined five more up in front of him. He handed Gris his house keys and his wallet, and threw back the first shot, grimacing and shuddering at the delicious burn of aged whiskey. Grissom merely shook his head as he sipped appreciatively at his, letting his eyes wander back to the dance floor.

Nick had made his escape from the dance floor like a sneak thief caught in the act. He rested his hands on either side of the sink in the men's room, leaned over and splashed more cold water on his face, not caring that it streamed down his shirt as well. He allowed his weight to pull him forward until his forehead connected smartly with the large mirror over the sink. Not moving, he allowed his eyes to travel up and finally greeted himself in the mirror. What. The. Fuck. What was that? Nick pulled himself away from the mirror and turned off the water, wiped his hands on his jeans. He assumed a stiff posture as he tried to pull himself together and re-evaluated his reflection. He shook his head as he headed back out into the pulsing music. He needed to say goodbye and head for home before any more insanity overtook his obviously overworked brain.

After having touched Catherine and Sara briefly on the shoulder and smiling a goodbye to them, Nick headed for the table he'd started the evening at. He was a little startled at what he found. His supervisor continued to scan the dance floor, but cut his eyes frequently to what, once, had been Greg Sanders. The pile of dozing, drooling CSI sprawled his long arms over the table ungracefully, and Nick found himself smiling broadly in relief. He wrinkled his nose in thought at that. Was he relieved because Greg would not remember what, if anything, had happened on the dance floor? Or that he hadn't had to make eye contact again with him so soon? Nick scratched the back of his neck as he shook his head at himself.

"Can you help me get him to a cab?" Grissom asked loudly.

Nick shook his head and pulled the younger CSI to his feet by rough grips on his wrists. Greg stood and swayed on his feet. Nick bent and hoisted him over his shoulder, the younger and thankfully slighter man flopping down his back inelegantly. "I'll get him home, Gris. Give me his keys." He stuck the keys in his front pocket and headed for the door, Greg over his shoulder. Greg's arms dangled haphazardly over his own head, banging into the back of Nick's thighs as he walked. "Yeah, yeah," he said to himself as he shook off the wolf whistles as he gripped the back of the man's thighs to keep him steady. One cute redhead even offered to be next. He shook his head again as he headed for his truck. Once there, he bent and set Greg carefully on his feet, leaning him against the side of his truck while he unlocked the door. After a bit of an awkward struggle he had Greg belted into the seat, an empty trash bin at his feet. Tentatively he held Greg's face in his hands for just a moment, lightly slapping with one to wake the man. "Greggo, you in there?" Greg nodded blearily. "Bucket at your feet. You hurl all over my truck and we're gonna have issues. Got it?" Greg nodded again and let his head fall back until his cheek pressed, catlike, into the cool of the glass window. He sighed and a small snore left his half open lips. Nick snorted as put his truck in gear and headed for the other man's home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Puzzled**

**Chapter Two: The Morning After the Night Before**

"Wha?" Greg snorted as he came to. He pulled his face out of the lovely puddle of drool on his pillow, grimaced and wiped his chin with the back of his hand as he tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "Oh, gawwwwwd," he groaned as he tried to open one eye, then the other. He couldn't quite manage to keep them both open at the same time. One poorly coordinated hand slapped at the bedside table attempting to reach his phone in order to silence the alarm. "Gha…" he mumbled incoherently as he finally reached the offending electronic. Switching off the alarm he peeked at the time with one bleary eye. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," he groaned. He needed to be at work in an hour. He'd slept fourteen hours but it didn't seem like anywhere near enough. The groggy CSI looked past his phone to the bedside table and took in the bottled water and aspirin sitting within easy reach; dropping his eyes he noticed a bucket sitting bedside. Greg ran his hands through his matted hair and reached for the aspirin as he tried to remember how they got there. No way a cabbie was going to put him to bed and set him up like this; Sara must have brought him home. Even though he blamed her a bit for his current condition, he'd have to thank her for getting him home safe, if he managed to drag his sorry ass in to work. For the time being he had to try to drag his sorry, smelly, ass into the shower. He thought about it; it had literally been days since he'd had a shower. That thought seemed to help him overcome his objections to moving more quickly than the aspirin did.

Water in all it's lovely forms began to get Greg going….hot shower, cold water, and treated to Blue Hawaiian. He made it to the front door with ten minutes to get to work and a still throbbing head when he realized his car was sitting in the lot at work. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket just as his doorbell rang. Looking through the peephole he sighed in relief at Sara standing on his stoop. Greg swung open the door and Sara smiled broadly at him. "Need a ride?" she asked. "I even have coffee," she added, "although it's not as good as yours." Greg smiled warmly in return. "Well I have to have some reason for you guys to keep me around, besides my winning personality and stunning good looks." Sara elbowed him in the ribs as she led him towards her hybrid.

Under way, Greg attempted to choke down the whole grain organic muffin Sara handed him, washing it down with the decaf soy latte she had waiting for him in the cup holder. "Sara, not that I don't appreciate the thought, but this is no way to treat a guy with a hangover. I do, however, want to thank you for getting me home last night." Sara raised one corner of her mouth just until her cheek dimpled. "I didn't get you home, Greggo. I'm not sure who did. Gris just said it had been taken care of." Greg shrugged, thinking he'd figure it out later. He had gotten home safe, so worrying about how didn't rate the top of his priority list at the moment. Figuring out how to politely spit out carrot and wheat germ muffin did, though. Bleh.

Twenty minutes later Greg sat in a darkened lab, head still throbbing and stomach rolling from the muffin/torture device. He didn't even notice when Nick passed by, head buried in a report. Nick only registered Greg in the recesses of his brain as he passed the darkened room. Three or four doors down he stopped mid-step, narrowing his eyes. Nick about faced and stepped back towards the dark lab, cautiously peeking his head around the door frame. At the small sound Greg jerked awake, pulling his hands just a bit down his face and opening one tired eye, rolling it around the room from between long fingers.

"Dude, you ok? The 'Mad-Eye Moody' thing is kind of freaking me out."

Greg pulled his hands further down his face, covering his mouth as his eyes narrowed, focusing on the opposite wall. "Mad-Eye?" He tried to put the reference in context with Nick Stokes. "Did you just make a Harry Potter reference, or am I still drunk?"

Nick chuckled softly, looking at the floor abashedly, "Hey, man, I've got nieces and nephews, you know. You doing all right?"

Greg nodded cautiously. "Yeah, but I won't be doing that again anytime soon. Hey, why didn't you come out to celebrate with everyone else Friday night? There's enough of this hangover to go around, you know."

Nick swallowed thickly. Greg was either giving him an out, or really didn't remember that night. Nick tried to feel relieved. He also tried to forget putting Greg to bed and worrying whether it was safe to leave him. "I was there, G. I got a front row view of you dirty dancing with Sara and Cath."

"Riiiiiight. I certainly hope you got pictures for my scrapbook," Greg said brazenly, though his cheeks colored a bit. "So we got a case, or what?"

"Yeah. You want to help me out in the garage, or you need to keep sitting alone in the dark for a while?" Nick teased.

"Naw, I'm good. Let's see what you got." Greg eased himself out of the chair and followed Nick down the hall to the garage, falling into an easy rhythm of work and banter. Nick internally sighed in relief. Back to business as usual.

Several hours later Greg pulled himself out from under the trunk of the car they'd been working and grabbed Nick by the wrist. Nick jumped at the contact. "Jesus, Nick, jumpy much?" Greg muttered as he turned the wrist in his hand over to see the watch just visible under the edge of a latex glove. Greg dropped the wrist and clapped his hands, rubbing them together eagerly. "Quitting time, bro." Nick shone the flashlight he was holding in his other hand over Greg's face. "What's the rush?" Nick asked, "Got a hot date?" he smirked.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Greg grinned. Nick's face fell for a second before either of them consciously registered it. He plastered a wide grin on his face and clapped Greg on the back. "That's great, Greggo. Who's the lucky lady?"

Greg threw his head back and laughed. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Nicky, but my hot date is with a freshly made, and sadly empty bed."

Nick snorted as he bent back over the engine of the car. "Well I'm sure we could remedy that," he muttered under his breath before, jumping…not realizing that Greg had leaned on his elbows right next to him.

"Oh, really, Nicky?" Greg purred, batting his eyelashes and running a teasing finger up Nick's bicep. Nick jumped back and brushed off Greg's hand, looking at him incredulously. "Criminy, you're so easy, Nicky!" Greg laughed as he turned to leave the room. "Hey, I'm off tomorrow night if you wanna grab a beer. I got that new game on Xbox." Greg threw at Nick as he left. Nick merely shrugged and muttered "maybe." A moment later, Nick poked his head around the hood of the car to ensure Greg had left. He dropped to the floor and leaned against the tire, running his hands over his face. He couldn't concentrate on the case. He felt like gears were circling in his head, constantly missing their mark, spinning aimlessly and getting him nowhere. He was missing something vital, but he couldn't, or wouldn't, understand what that missing piece was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Puzzled**

**Chapter Three: Crosswords and Cross Roads**

"You're doing the crossword? Don't let Gris catch you."

"Hmmm," answered Nick absently, not even bothering to remove the pen he was chewing on from his mouth.

Nick looked up from the table in the break room and covertly watched as Greg pulled his coffee from what he thought was his secret stash. One cheek dimpled as he shook his head. "No need to pull from your stash, man, the stuff in the pot is already Blue Hawaiian." Greg turned an evil eye on his fellow CSI. "Apparently I need to work on my hiding places," he griped as he poured himself a cup. "Enigma."

"What?" Nick asked, finally removing the thoroughly disgusting writing implement from his mouth.

"Twenty-two down. Conundrum. The answer's enigma." Greg leaned against the counter, inhaling the coffee steam.

"Oh. Thanks. And Grissom doesn't mind if you do the crossword, as long as you do it, instead of turning it into a bird."

"It was a crane. An ornithologist like yourself should be more specific." Greg smiled as he sipped from his mug. "So what happened this weekend? Not interested, or better plans?"

"Oh, um, just beat, you know. I did some work around the house, rested some, caught up on some reading, and by the time I thought about it, it was too late. Sorry. Maybe another time?" Nick looked blankly at the puzzle in front of him.

"Sure. But that sounded like a brush off. If you don't want to come over to Casa de Greggo and drink beer and play some vids, I get it. You see an awful lot of me here already." Greg smiled. "I know I'm a lot to take. Not everyone can handle the full-on, Sanders experience."

Nick surveyed the lanky CSI briefly, looked back to his paper and frowned in thought. He hadn't meant to offend his friend. "I think I can handle it. Tell you what, we'll go paragliding this weekend, my treat, if you think you can handle it."

"Rock on, Mr. Stokes. It's a date."

Nick narrowed his eyes in thought, focusing on nothing. "A date?"

"Yeah, a man-date. You know." Greg smiled and gestured with his coffee cup, sloshing the brew over the side. He swore softly and sopped up the mess with a paper towel. "Anyway, it sounds like fun." He looked at his watch, then checked his phone. "I'll catch you later, man. Case with Sara." He stumbled a bit as he walked backwards out of the room. A blush suffused his face and his shoulders hunched around his ears as he scooted in the direction of layout, confused at his sudden awkwardness. Once he was out of sight, Nick smiled to himself, inexplicably charmed. He looked down at the paper he'd spread on the table in front of him and filled in the answer Greg had given him. He poked himself in the chin with his pen as he studied the clues. Twenty-six across…head over heels. Ah. Besotted. He was down to just one clue left when he was paged to DNA. The clue, ironically, "without a clue". Grissom stopped and inspected the crossword on his way to the coffeepot, unable to leave it missing one last word. He pulled the pen out from behind his ear and filled in the last word….oblivious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Puzzled**

**Chapter Four: Conundrum Cubed**

Nick looked up from where he'd been perched on one knee in the bedroom of a dead teenager to see CSI 3 Sanders step into the room, kit in hand, eyes sweeping the grisly scene with distaste. "Hey, G, I thought you were on a case with Sara?"

Greg set his kit down and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. "We wrapped it. Gris sent me out here. What've we got?"

Nick pulled the bill of his ball cap around to the back of his head so he could more closely examine a pattern in the blood stain on the quilt that had slid off the foot of the bed, then pulled back and shot a few frames with the camera in his hand.

"A dead teenager and an awful lot of blood. David's already collected him. He was found here. GSW to the temple. Looked like a suicide, but I'm not so sure. There's a couple of things that don't sit right."

Greg put his hands on his hips as he studied the quilt Nick had been examining. "Chuckie T's, dude."

"What?" Nick answered, not getting the reference.

"Chuck Taylors. Converse All Star Basketball shoes. The pattern you're looking at was made by a pair."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I only own, like, ten pairs. I'd say that's around a size ten, but that's just a guess. Where you want me to start?"

Nick scanned the room briefly. "Can you hit the computer, the bookshelves, and the desk?"

Greg cocked his head a bit and studied his companion. "Normally I wouldn't ask, but you look like you've got something in mind."

Nick sat back on his heels and rested his hands on his thighs. "Anything that would lead me to believe this kid was suicidal. So far all reports from his family this guy was a popular, well-adjusted kid."

Greg crossed one arm over his stomach and fingered his chin with the other hand. "So I'm looking for a journal with an entry 'Dear Diary, I want to kill myself today….'"

Nick sent him a scathing look, just barely holding back the tiniest of smirks from one side of his mouth. "Yeah, G, something like that."

Greg clapped his hands together before lacing his latex clad fingers together and cracking his knuckles. "Alrighty, then." He stepped over to the bookshelves and scanned the titles, trying to piece together a personality from them while searching for anything that looked like a journal.

"Machiavelli's 'The Prince,' 'Ethics and Individual Will' by Schopenhauer, Sartre, Nietzsche…..Geez who the hell was this kid, Mini Grissom? Ah, here's something I can get behind! Look!" Greg held up an item for Nick to see.

Nick, to Greg's disappointment, looked unimpressed.

"It's a Rubik's Cube!"

"Yeah, Greg, I got that. Just not quite as excited about it as you seem to be."

"But they're so cool and iconic. I was the Rubik's Cube Champion my freshman year of college."

"See this?" Nick pointed at the stony expression on his own face. "This is me being not surprised. Is it relevant to this case in any way? Probably not."

"Oh, I get it." Greg smiled to himself as he turned the cube in his latex clad hand.

"Get what?" Nick asked absently as he continued to photograph blood spatter.

"You couldn't solve yours, could you?" Greg smirked and snuck a glance at his colleague out of the corner of his eye as he booted up the laptop perched on the desk.

Nick stopped at that and turned his attention fully towards the lanky, smirking CSI. "What the fuck are you on about?"

"Your Rubik's Cube. You couldn't solve it." He swung his chair to face Nick. "Everyone had one. You couldn't solve yours, could you?" he teased.

Nick crossed his arms and frowned. "How do you know I even had one?" he countered.

"Because _everyone_ had one. It was practically the law."

"If I did have one, which I'm not saying I did, I assure you I would have solved it."

"I don't think so," Greg countered, leaning back and spinning in the chair.

Nick grabbed the puzzle off the desk and tugged until a corner came off. "I solved it. I just figured out a different solution than you did." He shook the remaining bit of puzzle at the other man and frowned. "Is this supposed to rattle?"

Greg took the cube from Nick and looked inside, seeing nothing until he aimed his maglite into the interior. He pulled a tweezers out of his vest pocket and cautiously pulled an item out of the center of the black plastic puzzle. He turned it so Nick could see the item, an SD card. Greg turned the cube in his other hand, studying it. His eyes widened and then narrowed, "Give me the piece back." He put the piece back in it's previous position and turned one side to face Nick. "Look familiar?" he asked the confused looking man. Nick shrugged. "It's a Rubik's Cube, Greg, thought we'd covered that."

"Nick, look at the pattern. The colors. Does it look familiar?" Nick cocked his head and studied it. "Maybe….wait…"

"Exactly," Greg nodded. "There was that weird bumper sticker on the car…looked like some kind of logo? We're gonna have to do some more digging on that, I think. It might have been custom made."

"Cripes, Greg, you're still the Rubik's champ."

Greg's face broke into a huge grin. Almost as huge a grin as he wore a few days later when he saw the bumper sticker _someone_ had slapped on the back of his own car:

"RUBIK'S CHAMPS DO IT WITH SKILLED FINGERS."


	5. Chapter 5

**Puzzled**

**Chapter 5: Chimp-o-gram, Strip-o-gram, Anagram?**

Five days later, they finally put the case to bed. Greg was glad it was over; it was the type of case that put Nick on edge more than usual. The SD card they had discovered inside the puzzle had photos and documents that painted a sad and disturbing picture. The teenager in the case was not a victim of suicide, but a victim of murder, though he was hardly the only victim in the case. The photos had been evidence of the man across the street physically and sexually abusing his two young step children. Greg wished he could un-see the images. He wished he could un-see Nick's expression when the seasoned investigator scanned them. Greg didn't think he'd ever seen the man so close to being physically ill in the entire time he' known him…he could almost taste the bile at the back of his own throat , just from the look on Nick's face.

The teenager, instead of going to the authorities, used the photos to blackmail the man. Eventually, the step father got tired of paying. He'd been the one to pull the trigger. Nick almost lost it in interrogation when he and Brass interviewed the man; Brass had finally had to ask Nick to leave. Nick watched from the observation room, his arms crossed and expression stony, the tension in the muscle of his jaw belying his clenched teeth. Greg had found him there and had stood, equally as silent, in mute comfort and commiseration.

"Is it really wrong that I think that kid might of got what he deserved?" Nick had asked quietly, his brow furrowed.

"I don't know. Cases like these are always tough. We're supposed to stand up for the victim, but sometimes it's hard to be an advocate for such an asshole. I mean, maybe he didn't deserve to die for what he did, or didn't do. I like to believe that Karma's a bitch, though, and what goes around, comes around. I like to believe he would have gotten his, eventually."

Nick turned and studied his friend for a moment before nodding his head briefly.

"And this guy? We got him dead to rights, open and shut on the child abuse and molestation. Even if they don't slam dunk the murder charge, he'll get his. You know how they feel about child molesters in prison." Greg said with grim satisfaction.

A small, nasty smile had worked onto the corner of Nick's face as he imagined the step father's reception in county lock-up. "Greg, you always know how to make me feel better, man."

"Good. Can we change the subject to something less morbid for a second?" Nick nodded. "It's your birthday this weekend. Got any plans?" Nick shook his head, no. "Would you be averse to the idea of us taking you out?" Nick shrugged. "Alright then Mr. Stokes. Friday night, your birthday boy butt belongs to us." Greg grinned at Nick's cocked eyebrow and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He had plans in motion for Friday, and they needed some fun around here.

When everyone from the grave shift sauntered in to the break room Friday night, they found a giant sheet cake with a confusing message on it. The letters made up no discernable words. A note attached stated "Until the Birthday Boy solves the jumble, this cake is off limits!" The girls grumbled but left the cake, eyeing the frosting roses longingly and trying to figure out who's birthday it was. When Nick came into the room in search of coffee, he read the note on the cake and threw his head back in laughter, knowing exactly who had brought in the puzzle cake. Nick sat down at the table with his coffee and a pen he had fished out of a back pocket. He wrote down all the letters on the top of the cake and began to solve it, figuring the words "happy" and "birthday" were probably part of the mix. He quickly solved "Happy Birthday Nicky with love from Greg and the grave shift." He took the note off the top of the cake and helped himself to a small piece before scribbling his own jumble on the back. When Greg stopped into the break room halfway through his shift to find half the cake eaten, he quickly solved "thanks Greg love you too." He blushed a bit at that, but laughed it off. They were going to have a fun night.

An hour before shift was over, Nick was paged to the lobby for a visitor. Greg grabbed Sara and motioned to Catherine and Warrick to follow as he pulled out his phone and put it on video camera mode. The girls giggled and Warrick whistled as the lobby came into view…complete with a six foot tall bikini clad gorilla bearing a bouquet of balloons. The gorilla handed the bouquet to Nick, who took them somewhat awkwardly. Then he/she/it made a great show of flirting with Nick, much to the amusement of the accumulating staff. Greg and Warrick could no longer hold in their laughter, which finally alerted Nick to his audience. Nick blushed profusely before proclaiming that he knew where each and every person watching lived, and that they would get theirs. He took his balloons and left the lobby, batting them out of his face as he passed by the still giggling girls.

A few hours later Nick found himself seated between Greg and Warrick at a club off strip, a stronger drink than he was used to in his hand. Grissom had agreed to come for a bit, he sat opposite flanked by Catherine and Sara. Warrick shared a conspiratorial glance with Greg behind Nick's head before signaling the waitress for another round. Once everyone but Greg was good and comfortable-his head still hurt when he even thought about alcohol-Warrick signaled to the waitress again, this time with a nod and a wink. A few moments later, a scantily clad dancer with a large tattoo of a snake running across her back was at their table, enquiring after the birthday boy. Greg raised an enquiring eyebrow to Warrick, who merely smirked as he took another draw from his drink. Greg and Warrick both pushed their seats back, giving the dancer access to Nick. Nick looked her up and down blearily, confused. She smiled widely at him.

"Hi, handsome. I hear it's your birthday today."

Nick merely nodded a bit unsteadily. The dancer moved forward to straddle Nick, draping her arms over his shoulders. Nick smiled up at her and let his hands rest on her waist. Warrick did little to hide his grin at the complete look of befuddlement on his friend's face.

"Do I know you?" Nick asked.

The dancer smiled. "My name's Leila. I'm your date for the evening. Or at least for the next little while."

"Hi Leila. I'm Nick." Nick smiled at her again. The rest of the table chuckled, though Grissom looked slightly disapproving. Grissom rose and checked his watch before rounding the table and tapping Greg on the shoulder. Greg looked up at his mentor questioningly.

"I expect you to repay his favor and get him home safely," he said softly into Greg's ear.

"Repay what favor?" he queried.

Grissom looked at the young man curiously for a moment. "Didn't you know he took you home the last time we were out?" Grissom barely held in the smirk at the momentary look of shock on Greg's face. "You were so far gone he had to carry you out, fireman style. It was quite the spectacle." Greg colored quickly and took a few quick gulps of his soda.

"He'll get home safe, Gris. I promise." Grissom nodded and excused himself, letting the younger set have their well deserved fun.

Meanwhile, Leila worked to give Nick Warrick's money's worth, grinding against him and flaunting her assets in time to the music. Warrick watched out of the corner of his eye while the girls discussed technique and dancing style clinically, Catherine of course saying Leila had nothing on her. Warrick's eyes bulged and he spit beer across the table when he heard that. He looked at Catherine incredulously for a moment before looking back at Leila and Nick, then turning back to Catherine and eyeing her speculatively. She merely cocked an eyebrow and gave Rick half of a wicked grin before asking Sara to join her on the dance floor.

Warrick followed them, after draining his beer, leaving an increasingly uncomfortable Greg to carefully not watch a drunken Nick get a lap dance, trying to give them a semblance of privacy.

After a moment or two he heard chairs scraping and turned around to see Nick, slightly more clear headed, gently but firmly pushing the lovely Leila away.

"I'm sorry darlin. It's not that I don't appreciate it, but I just don't think you're my type." She kissed him on the cheek and left the table, trailing her fingers from his cheek down his arm as she left. Nick moved to sit next to Greg on the banquette, slouching down and resting his head on Greg's shoulder.

"She's not your type? Are you kidding me? She's hot!"

Nick merely smiled softly and responded "Can you get me another round, Greggo. I'm not quite obliviated yet." Greg nodded, laughing, and signaled the waitress, who quickly brought over another round.

"Again with the Harry Potter references. I think you mean obliterated." Nick nodded solemnly.

"Exactly."

"Nicky." Greg nudged his friend with the arm he was leaning on.

"Nicky."

"Yup, still here Greggo," Nick replied,his eyes closed.

"Why didn't you tell me you took me home last week?" Greg asked, perplexed.

"Thought you knew. Thought you might be embarrassed. Not a biggie. Glad to do it." Nick yawned widely. "And you were so cute, all drunk like that. Almost stayed. You know, to make sure you were alright," Nick said, barely discernable over the sound of the music.

Greg looked down at the man almost snoozing against his shoulder and smiled. He suddenly had a very warm feeling building in his chest that he wasn't sure he understood or wanted to investigate. His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the soft snore that came from his friend.

"Thanks, Nicky. Love you too, buddy. Now let's get you home."


	6. Chapter 6

**Puzzled**

**Chapter 6: Drunk and Disorderly**

Before Nick would allow Greg to lead him out of the club to his car, he insisted on draining the last drink that had been set in front of him.

"Bad luck to leave an unfinished drink, Greggooooo."

"Really," responded an entirely amused Greg. "Says who, cowboy?"

Nick looked momentarily confused. "Well. Everyone. Everybody knows that."

"I must have missed the memo," Greg said, smiling as he leaned over to pull a thoroughly hammered Nick to his feet and wrap one of Nick's arms around his shoulders. Greg groaned as Nick leaned heavily on him. "Dude, ya gotta help me out, here. I know you carried me out last week, but there's no way I'm tossing you over my shoulder."

"Yeah. I tossed you over my shoulder. We got wolf whistles."

"Greeeaat," Greg grimaced, "just what my reputation needs." He grinned good naturedly and shook his head as they made their way through the crowded club.

"What, your reputation as a lady's man?" asked Nick, grinning the grin of the truly toasted.

"Well, no. I was more thinking along the lines of 'respected member of law enforcement.' But, yeah, passed out drunk doesn't scream 'date potential,' either." Greg paused to dig his keys out of his pocket and unlock his car before helping Nick in and leaning over him to buckle his seat belt, Nick raising his arms and watching Greg's actions intently, if somewhat blearily.

"Where's my truck?" Nick asked, confused.

Greg smiled and shook his head again as he started the engine. "At home, Nicky, remember?" Greg pulled out his cell and typed a quick text to the rest of the team to let them know he was taking Nick home.

"Where are we going?" Nick asked, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"I'm taking you home, Nick. Why, is there someplace else you wanna go?" Greg asked as he put his car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Oh. No. Home is good. Are you coming, too?"

Greg chuckled and let out a contented little sigh. It was actually a little comforting to know his mentor and friend wasn't always the consummate professional, that he was as fallible as the rest of them. He furrowed his brow for a moment, wondering if it was something to do with the case. Greg didn't think he could recall ever seeing Nick this bombed, or seeing the seasoned CSI quite so upset about a case. "Yes, Nicky. I'm the one driving you there," he finally responded with a smirk.

"Oh. Well that makes sense. I'm glad," Nick mumbled.

Greg rested his elbow on the window sill and his temple on his fist and studied his friend as he waited for the red light to change. "Glad of what, Nicky?"

"That you're coming home with me."

Greg raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't respond as he pulled out into the intersection and headed towards Nick's subdivision. After pulling up behind Nick's truck in the driveway he shut off the engine, deciding the other man wasn't going to get inside on his own. He walked around and opened the passenger door, to which Nick merely blinked up at him. Greg reached in, sighing, to unbelt his friend, Nick once again watching him closely.

"C'mon, Nicky, help me out, here…." Nick put his hands on either side of the car door opening, took a deep and comically dramatic breath, and heaved himself out of the car, stumbling into Greg and almost knocking them both over. Greg set Nick straight and leaned him against the car while he closed and locked the doors and fished through Nick's pockets for his house keys. Nick giggled like a five year old and squirmed, Greg blowing out an exasperated breath as he finally found them.

"Let's get you set up for the night, buddy." He wrapped Nick's arm around his shoulders again and led him into the house, pausing to make sure the door was locked behind them. Once in familiar territory, Nick removed himself from Greg and stumbled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Greg scratched at the back of his head, unsure what to do. After a moment of consideration, he headed for the kitchen to peruse the fridge, pulling out a couple of bottles of cold water and taking a long draw on one. After a few minutes of standing alone in the dark kitchen staring at the take out menus attached to the front of the fridge, he headed back down the hallway to knock on the bathroom door. "Still alive, in there, man?" he asked tentatively.

The door opened and Nick blinked at him, confused. "Hello, Greggo. You're in my house," he stated before stumbling towards his bedroom. Greg grinned and followed, water bottles in hand, dodging the boots Nick kicked off on the way down the hall and the jacket and button down shirt that followed them to the floor. When they reached Nick's bedroom, he unceremoniously dropped his jeans and climbed into a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt that had been laying across the foot of the bed before climbing onto the bed and looking expectantly to Greg, who merely scratched at the back of his head again and placed the bottles on the bedside table.

"Are you gonna be okay, Nicky? I really should be going, I guess…"

Nick looked at Greg imploringly. "You should stay. It would be better if you stayed." He looked at his lap. "Will you please stay?"

For some reason Greg couldn't understand, his heart hurt at the sound of his usually confident colleague sounding so lost.

"Sure, Nicky," Greg nodded, smiling a bit uncomfortably. "Um, you want to watch a movie, or something?" he enquired, looking around at the good sized television on the far wall and the stack of movies next to it.

Nick had already managed to nest himself into a pile of pillows by the time he answered Greg. "M' kay," he responded.

Greg wiped his palms on his jeans as he crossed the room to check out the stack of DVDs sitting on top of the player on Nick's dresser. Most of the stack looked new, some still unopened. Greg flipped through them, surprised by several of the titles, cocking his eyebrow at Nick as he read the back flap of a few of them. "Didn't really expect the rom-coms, dude. Not really in the mood for heavy drama…sort of get enough of that at work…documentary on the life of Custer…that doesn't surprise me," he muttered under his breath. He stopped short, almost shocked. "Dude, you've got the Jackass trilogy? That's hilarious. That surprises the shit right out of me. We are so watching this. Midget wrestling is exactly what the occasion calls for." Greg grinned as he put the disc in the player, then kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, his legs crossed Indian style.

Nick watched as Greg took one of the bottles of water and took a deep draw. He watched Greg's throat convulse as he swallowed and grimaced a bit as he tasted his own tongue. He reached past Greg and made a grabbing motion which Greg quickly took as a request for the other bottle, which he relinquished with a smirk.

Greg watched Nick drain the bottle surreptitiously, rolling his own bottle absently between his palms. He studied the bottle for a second before deciding to ask the question that had been plaguing him for days.

"Nicky, can I ask you something?"

Nick nodded, eyes on the television.

"Why do these cases get to you so much?"

Nick didn't move from his nest of pillows, his eyes seemingly still glued to the TV, except for drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and gnawing on it savagely.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to answer if you don't want" Greg said softly. "I guess that's kind of personal." He jumped when he felt Nick's hand wrap around his wrist, and looked up to see Nick studying his face.

"It's okay. I just don't like talking about it. Nobody knows." He scratched his hands through his short hair before blowing out a long breath and looking seriously at the ceiling. "I told Catherine once."

"If you don't wanna tell me, that's okay."

Nick turned his head and studied Greg as seriously as a thoroughly tanked man could.

"I'll tell you. I don't mind. But then you gotta tell me something."

"Tell you what, Nicky?"

"I don't know." He crossed his arms, exasperated. "A secret. About you. I don't actually know much about you. Not really."

Greg nodded as he took another sip of water, thinking. He recapped the bottle carefully and set it aside. "Okay," he responded tentatively.

Nick rubbed his hands over his face, then stopped, leaving the heels of his palms resting on the hollows of his tightly closed eyes.

"When I was nine. They got a last minute sitter. I never told them what happened…"

Greg reached up and wrapped his hand around Nick's wrist, mirroring Nick's gesture from earlier. Nick pulled one hand away from his eye to look Greg in his. "Thanks for telling me, Nick." Nick nodded and rubbed at his eyes some more.

"What about you?"

Greg pulled his knees up to his chest and rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms up and down his thighs nervously. "So, what do you wanna know?"

"I don't know. Something nobody else knows," Nick responded, half watching the television.

Greg took a deep breath and ran his palms up and down his thighs again. What the hell, he thought, it's not like he'll remember anyway. "Okay. I didn't lose my virginity until I was twenty-two."

Nick looked at Greg sharply. "Nope. Doesn't count. Already knew that."

Greg smiled at his friend. "Yeah, everybody does, thanks to Sara. What everybody doesn't know, is that I didn't lose it to a girl."


	7. Chapter 7

**Puzzled**

**Chapter 7: Say What?**

"Nick, did you hear me?"

"Nick!"

"Sorry, what was that, Catherine?"

Catherine furrowed her brow and crossed her arms over her chest, lips pursed as she studied her colleague. "What the hell is the matter with you? Are you coming down with something? I've been talking to you for almost five minutes, and I don't think you've registered a word of it. What's going on with you?"

Nick sighed and ran his hands over his face, then rested his cheek on his fist, his elbow propped carelessly on his littered desk. "Sorry, Cath." He smiled at his friend to reassure her. "Just trying to work something out. One of those things that makes total sense when you look at it one way, and confuses the hell out of you when you look at it the other."

"Sounds like one of those 'magic eye' puzzles," she countered.

Nick cocked a brow.

"You know, like at the fair. Where you have to squint or let your eyes go blurry to see the image."

Nick frowned and wrinkled his brow in thought. "Yeah, that pretty much describes it." He smiled again, catching sight of Greg and Sara walking down the hall, a brilliant smile lighting the young man's face as Sara berated him about something or other. "We got a lead on our case?" Nick turned away from the sight and refocused on Catherine.

"Better. We got a confession."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, but that wasn't what I was talking about while you were ignoring me. Gil stuck me with performance reviews again. Luckily for you and your momentary distraction I'm not working on yours…" she smiled mischievously as Nick had the good sense to look sheepish, "but I am working on Greg's and was asking for your opinion? Grissom wants to bump him to a level three." She paused to cross her arms over her chest, tapping her chin with her finger. "I've been watching , the last couple of weeks. He has really proved himself, hasn't he?"

Nick smiled warmly to himself as he let his gaze drop, unfocused, to his desktop. "Yeah, he's something alright."

Catherine cocked her head and looked at her friend with a practiced eye. "You know, he really works well with everyone, but he works especially well with you, I think. When you two work a scene together, it's almost like yin and yang, you know? You two complement each other really well both in attitude and in skills. It's almost like you communicate nonverbally, or something."

Nick furrowed his brow again, considering that as his unfocused gaze moved to the opposite wall. "Yeah we kinda do, I guess, sometimes." He looked back down at his desk and bit his lip. "And sometimes he still totally takes me by surprise," he said, mostly to himself.

"Well, when he turns up in the middle of the hall, wearing a showgirl's headpiece, I'm not sure anyone could, or should, be expecting that."

Nick smiled broadly. "Yeah, but that was a long time ago. Anyway, the case?" Nick attempted to redirect.

"Wrapped." She checked her watch. "You can probably take off." She smiled fondly and looked him up and down. "Have a good night, Nicky."

Nick sighed and ran a hand over his face with one hand and reached for his coffee cup, frowning as he realized it was empty. He thought about just taking off, but decided to stay and finish up some paperwork he'd been putting off, though he was a sure another cup of coffee was in order. He headed for the break room in search of a cup, finding Greg sitting at the break room table paging through the paper when he got there.

Greg looked up from his paper and smirked when he saw the mug in Nick's hand, before looking back down at his paper. "I just put on a pot of the good stuff. Give it a second to brew."

Nick set his cup down next to the coffee maker and turned, leaning against the counter, his hands resting palms down on it. He studied his long time friend and colleague with cautious eyes, eventually crossing his arms in front of him. Nick took a quick look down the hall, ensuring no wandering eyes or ears were in range before saying softly, "I can't believe you never told me."

Greg froze momentarily, before carefully turning another page and pretending to read, swallowing heavily and surreptitiously checking for onlookers. "Tell you what, Nick?" he attempted casually. He couldn't mean what he thought he meant, could he? Nick had been three sheets to the wind when Greg had revealed his secret, and had passed out cold moments later.

"That you're gay." Greg shot his eyes to Nick's, fear taking him for an instant before he recovered. Greg rose from the table to go and quietly close the door, leaning against it and not quite meeting Nick's gaze as Nick studied him.

"It makes sense, I guess, but I'm still sort of surprised that you never told me. I thought we were friends. That sort of seems like something friends would share."

Greg eyed him carefully before sighing in resignation and rubbing a hand over his face. "Okay, first of all, strictly speaking, I'm not gay."

Nick cocked an eyebrow. "Kay, I know I was schnockered, but I recall you saying you lost your virginity to, um, 'not a girl.' So, unless you lost your it to something not human, in which case I really don't want to know about it, I'm guessing it was a guy."

"But I'm not gay."

"So, what, you're bi?"

Greg scratched a hand through his hair. "I don't like labels. I'm…open minded." He grinned, suddenly inspired, "I'm EOG." At Nick's shrug he continued, smiling, "Equal Opportunity Greggo," Greg explained, smirking and spreading his hands as if that explained everything.

Nick frowned and ran a finger over his bottom lip.

Greg sat at the table and flattened his hands on it's top, thinking how best to proceed. "Okay, look at it this way. Do you believe there is one person out there for everyone that is their destined mate? Like their soul mate?"

Nick pondered it before responding, "I'm not sure. I've never really thought about it."

"Well, let's say, for the sake of argument, that you do. It's like that philosopher…crap I can't remember which one…where's Grissom when you need him? Anyway…this philosopher thought we were all born with two heads and four legs and four arms…"

"Yeah, and two backs, I remember the story," Nick added.

Greg warmed to the topic, "And that we were separated and we spend our whole life trying to find our other half. Well, what happens if your soul mate, your other half, is the wrong gender?"

Nick frowned in thought.

"How sad would it be to miss out on finding your soul mate, just because you couldn't overlook a chromosome? I just like to keep my options open, you know? I want to make sure, in this life, I give myself every opportunity to find the yin to my yang." Greg smiled hopefully.

Nick startled at the reference. "The yin to your yang?"

"Yeah, you know, the Asian symbol for balance with the little black swirl and the white swirl?"

"I know what a yin-yang is, Greg. But thanks, that certainly gives me a lot to think about. But why didn't you ever tell me? Or anyone?"

"It's not exactly on the job application, you know. And how the hell do you work that into a conversation with someone you work with? 'Hey, by the way, just in case you're interested, I like girls as well as guys, wink, wink.' Sounds like a recipe for a sexual harassment suit, if you ask me."

Nick smirked. "Yeah, I guess."

"So, you're okay with it? I mean, I also didn't really tell anyone at work 'cause I didn't want to make it weird. I didn't freak you out, or anything?"

Nick smiled enigmatically as he filled his coffee cup and made his way to the door. "No, Greggo, I am, maybe surprisingly, not freaked out about it. G' night."

Greg smiled, a bit puzzled but feeling somehow relieved, "Great. G'night Nicky."

a/n Still not mine. But it's nice to dream, isn't it?


	8. Chapter 8

**Puzzled**

**Chapter 8: Missing U**

a/n: Still don't own. This chap's a shortie, but it was just too cute to mess with.

Despite the fact that Nick had told Greg he was okay with his…revelation, it seemed to him that Greg avoided him for the whole of the next week. Every time Nick walked into the locker room, Greg slammed his locker, blushed to the tips of his ears, and muttered "Hey, man, how are you, catch you later, gotta go…case.."

Or something like that.

Nick realized halfway through the week how much he missed his daily interactions with his quirky friend. Greg's outlook on just about everything always managed to keep the team from getting bogged down in the seriousness of the things they saw and dealt with every day. Nick smiled to himself as he realized that Greg's insanity kept the rest of them sane. He was the ultimate comic relief. But he was more than that, too. He was brilliant in so many ways.

Nick sighed and ran a hand down his face. An inkling of what was going on with him was starting to peek into the corners of his conscious thought, but he kept pushing it back into those dusty, unused corners. He just missed Greg, was all. And he could do something about that, after all.

Nick pulled out his cell phone and texted a message to Greg, despite the fact he was probably only two rooms away.

"You busy Saturday?"

It took less than a minute to get a reply, making Nick smirk. Greg loved to text more than the average teenage girl.

"No Y?"

Nick bit the inside of his cheek as he typed.

"Wanna go rock climbing with me, eagle scout?"

It took longer than a minute this time, making Nick wary. He put his phone down on the bench in the locker room and pulled open his locker, digging for the clean t-shirt he knew he had in their somewhere and letting his eyes drift back to the phone unbidden. It took ten minutes for a response.

"U think u can keep up? ;)"

Nick laughed at the text in relief.

"Bet u breakfast I can. Punk. :P"

"U r on, old man :o"

They set a time and place to meet, and though Nick hardly saw Greg the rest of the day, the sideways glances he shot him in the hall and the quick wink at the coffeemaker before he disappeared seemed to somehow make Nick's smile more prevalent, unbeknownst to him. He just knew he felt more level somehow, and that he was looking forward to some rock climbing. With Greg.


	9. Chapter 9

a/n This chapter dedicated to Libranfate and RiverofSerenity :). And BTW, I still don't own Nick and Greg (sob!)

**Puzzled**

**Chapter 9: On the edge of the precipice...**

Nick rested a hand on a hip and took a deep draw from his water bottle as he gazed out over the desert from their cliff-top vantage point, the sun still low enough in the eastern sky to paint shadows across the desert floor. Greg sat a few feet away from him at the edge of the cliff, feet dangling over the edge, the weight of his torso propped on the hands splayed out behind him. Nick's eyes turned to his climbing partner as he took in the sunrise and opted to join him at his precarious seat.

"Thanks for coming out with me, G," letting his legs swing in time with Greg's, shins just touching every third or fourth swing.

Greg's smile flashed brilliantly for an instant, then turned shy as he looked at his feet. "Thanks for inviting me. You know I love an opportunity to show off the skills," he returned with false bravado. "And it's nice to know we can hang out still, you know, after everything…"

Nick smiled an amazingly complicated smile, one that spoke of peace and a bit of fear and confusion and slow realization of several things he was not ready to put a name to, but was starting to understand _were_ there, and that could change everything but it could be so very, very, good. He reached over to flatten Greg's hair where it stood on end, glued in place by rapidly drying sweat. Greg held very still, his water bottle frozen halfway to his mouth in midair, but for his eyes. They shuttered closed for an instant in shock that seemed almost painful, then opened to study Nick from under lowered lids and long lashes. He let his hand drop back down to set the water bottle aside and rest his hand on the thigh nearest Nick, still watching. Nick took a deep, quiet breath and let it out slowly, then gnawed on his bottom lip as he let his hand drop on top of Greg's. Greg closed his eyes again, processing, confused, then extended his fingertips under Nick's and waited. Nick laced his fingers through Greg's and squeezed. Greg's head dropped to his chest as Nick quietly studied the way their hands fit together, running his thumb lightly over the side of Greg's palm.

Greg shivered in response. Then he took action. He carefully scrambled to his feet, dragging Nick with him by their still awkwardly connected hands, turning him until they were facing each other, both afraid to make eye contact. Greg released Nick's hand and laid his hand instead lightly against the other man's neck, his thumb ghosting Nick's jaw. He could feel the pulse jump under his palm, too fast, too strong. He took another steadying breath before looking up to find Nick's eyes tightly closed.

"Nick?" he said softly, barely a whisper, barely a question. Nick's eyes opened slowly to look into Greg's, back and forth, one to the other. So many things made so much sense in that moment. Why he hated it when Greg talked about his dates. Why his own dates always fell flat. Why he'd always been so much more comfortable in Greg's physical space than anyone else's he knew.

He offered another smile to his friend and colleague, this one much softer and much simpler, before closing his eyes, wrapping his hand around the wrist resting against his collarbone, and leaning in to touch his lips to the dry, chapped lips so close by now to his own. After merely a moment, he pulled back to look Greg in the eye, to gauge his reaction. Greg's eyes lit up like stars and his smile shown as bright as the lights on the strip at midnight before he pulled until his and Nick's foreheads rested together.

Greg took a deep breath and let out a long, contented sigh before pulling away with a grin. "Come on cowboy, let's get off this cliff," he said as he hooked up his gear.

Nick smiled broadly and waggled his eyebrows. "Beat you to the bottom!"

Greg cocked an eyebrow at that, trying to decide if the Texan intended the double entendre. Regardless, Greg smirked in response. "You're on."

Half an hour later they were on their way home in Greg's car, Nick sound asleep with his left hand locked around Greg's right wrist. Greg smiled at his friend and looked out the window wistfully. This could be everything he had ever wanted, but it could also end horribly. He couldn't imagine being in the bright sunshine of being with Nick, and then going back to the cold darkness of being without him, working the same shift. It was all a giant gamble, but the payout could be huge. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he studied Nick again.

Nick stuttered awake when Greg pulled into his driveway. He glanced at Greg and smiled through his yawn and stretch. When Nick got out with his gear and started towards his front door, he turned as he realized Greg wasn't following him, but stood, arms crossed, leaning against his car.

Nick dropped his gear and went to stand in front him. "Aren't you gonna come in? I've got stuff for breakfast…"

Greg smiled. "I'd like that. But I think I'm gonna pass." He smiled at Nick's disappointment, but wrapped lean fingers around one of Nick's wrists, stroking the pulse point with his thumb. "I need a shower, and I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

Greg smiled at that. He'd expected no less. "I need you to figure out where you want to go from here. I mean, this could be amazing, but if it goes to hell, well, I just don't want to lose what I already have in you."

Nick nodded, eyes serious, teeth sneaking out over his bottom lip in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture.

Greg smiled again. "And if you decide not to, um, pursue this any further, then what happens on a cliff top outside of Vegas can stay on a cliff top outside of Vegas, okay?"

Nick nodded wordlessly, again, and let his eyes drop to his shoes as his brow furrowed.

"I'm gonna cook you dinner, tomorrow night. And if you want, it can be a date. Or it can just be you and me hanging out and watching the game."

Nick shook his wrist loose from Greg's grip to lace their fingers together and squeeze quickly before releasing them and turning on his heel to head for his front door, Greg silently watching him go.

"I'll see you at four tomorrow?" Nick threw back over his shoulder as he put the key in the lock.

"Yeah."

At 3:45 the next day, Greg opened his door to a very clearly nervous Nick, holding a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers. Greg almost bit through his bottom lip in order to not burst out into laughter, but managed a brilliant smile, one that was returned gratefully.

"I didn't know the protocol…."

Greg smiled again. "There doesn't have to be any protocol, Nick. It's just you and me. But I appreciate the gesture. A lot. Um, not to be ungrateful, but I really don't drink wine…"

Nick snickered, relaxing a bit at last. "I don't either. You got any beer?"

They grinned at each other like the idiots they were and Greg took the wine and the flowers and set them aside so he could take Nick by his wrists and pull them around his waist, before dropping his own hands onto broad shoulders. Nick smiled a bit shyly as he bumped Greg's forehead with his own and Greg's hands crept up to the sides of Nick's neck to hold him in place as he sought his lips with his own, Nick answering back, timidly at first, but gradually with more surety, wrapping his arms tighter around a thin waist and crushing Greg to him.

When they pulled back, breathless, a moment later, Greg smirked. "That your answer then? Or do you require more information?"

Nick looked him in the eye. "That is my answer, yes. And I do require more information. But later. Right now I'm starving and you promised me food, and the game starts in ten minutes."

Greg grinned and followed Nick into the living room, wondering what the hell he was going to put flowers in.


	10. Chapter 10

**Puzzled**

**Chapter 10**

Nick sat at the break room table, contentedly drinking his freshly brewed coffee and filling in the cross word puzzle as he awaited the beginning of his shift. Warrick, slightly disgruntled that Nick knew where Sanders hid the good coffee and he didn't, read the sports section.

Greg, mug in hand, sauntered in, nose testing the air approvingly and his eyes on Nick. A minute misstep as he realized they were not alone.

"Hey, Warrick. You have a good weekend?"

"Meh," Warrick grunted in reply, barely looking up.

"How 'bout you, Nicky?" he greeted as though they hadn't kissed good morning an hour ago. "Good weekend?"

Nick cocked an eyebrow and looked at Greg out of the corner of his eye, the tiniest smirk floating around the corner of his jaw as he tried to figure out Greg's angle. Looking back at his paper, he shrugged, let the paper drop and stretched his arms over his head, lacing his fingers together and cracking his knuckles as he cracked his neck. Looking purposely down the hall and away from Greg he responded, "I had an _amazing_ weekend." He sucked on his teeth. "Thanks. For asking."

Greg froze as he watched those arms stretch. "Amazing, huh?" his coffee mug held in stasis just below his mouth.

"Yep," he responded, popping the p as he picked up his own mug again.

"Good to know," Greg smiled, full on, oblivious to the fact that Warrick was now watching them surreptitiously over the top of the spots section. Greg topped up his coffee and headed out of the break room trying his best to not let his grin crack his face or his strut be too pronounced as he made his way down the hall, unaware of the way Nick's eyes followed his ass out the door.

After a moment, Nick became aware of the quiet chuckles coming from behind the sports section.

"Dude, what the hell could possibly be so funny in the sports section?" he asked his friend, baffled.

Warrick dropped the paper in front of him and reached over to clap Nick on the back. "Finally, Nicky. Good for you. It's about damn time," he said as he stood to top up his own coffee.

Nick's eyes went wide as Warrick sat back down and pulled out his phone, sending off a text to who-knows-where with a wide grin on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Nick asked, a small and unwanted note of panic in his voice.

Warrick looked up at his long-time friend with a look of 'oh, please!' "Dude, you and Sanders. It's about time."

Nick looked at the other man, slack jawed and gob-smacked. "What? What do you mean it's about time? What? I mean just….What?"

Warrick rubbed a hand over his chin, unsuccessfully hiding his grin. "C'mon, Nicky. You two have been dancing around each other for years."

Nick looked down at the table, confused, processing. He looked up, slightly incredulous. "Then why the _hell_ didn't you _tell_ me?"

Warrick laughed. "Oh, yeah, that would have been a comfortable conversation. And what if I'd been wrong? Awkward!"

Nick looked down at the table again. "Okay, I guess that's not really a conversation I can imagine us having." He frowned. "So, it doesn't freak you out, or anything?" he asked, a little worried.

Warrick smiled a soft smile at his friend. "Naw, man. I just want you to be happy. And that dude is crazy about you."

Nick's face lit up. "Really?"

Before Warrick could answer, Catherine skidded into the room. "Seriously?" she asked Warrick without even acknowledging Nick. Warrick grinned. "You owe me and Sara both fifty, Catherine. Fair and square."

Catherine eyed up Nick as Nick goggled at Warrick. "You guys bet on us?"

"And I lost," Catherine interjected. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay, here's the deal. You hurt him, and you will have this whole lab raining down a world of hurt on you. You will _not_, I repeat, will _not_, be caught making googly eyes at each other at a crime scene or making out in the janitors closet. Technically, you are not allowed to date someone you work with, but as the LVPD does not officially recognize same sex partnerships, as long as you are relatively discreet we'll all keep it to ourselves."

Nick stared at her, trying to take in everything she said. "So what if he dumps me?" he asked, a bit defensively.

Catherine smiled somewhat patronizingly at him as she dropped a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, don't you worry, Nicky. He's gonna get this same lecture. In the meantime, you and laughing boy here are on a trash run in Henderson. Hop to it."

"What about my fifty?" Warrick smiled at her.

"You'll get it. Now get out."

He laughed at her as he rose, slipped his jacket on, and took the work sheet from Catherine's outstretched hand. "C'mon, Nicky."

"Hey, what exactly was the bet?" Catherine heard Nick ask as they rounded the corner. She smiled, her arms crossed and her foot tapping for a moment, her eyes roaming aimlessly. She shook herself and went to find the other half of that particular equation.


	11. Chapter 11

Puzzled

Chapter 11

When Catherine found Greg in layout, he was smirking at the cell phone in his hand. She watched as he sent a text. She had a pretty good idea to whom.

He looked up when he realized she was standing in the doorway. "Hey, Catherine. What's up?" he grinned.

She couldn't help it. A brilliant smile broke over her face as she walked towards Greg and enveloped him in a sisterly hug.

"I'm so happy for you, sweetie," she said softly before pulling back. Greg pecked her on the cheek and returned her smile before releasing her.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Catherine."

"Yeah, sure you don't. Look, I'm sure he already warned you of the oncoming lecture about discretion…."

"Yeah, and something about 'a world of hurt?'" Greg smirked as he rested his elbows on the layout table and batted his eyelashes coyly.

Catherine allowed herself a fond smile before assuming a more stern countenance. "I don't have to give you that part of the lecture."

"Oh?"

She smiled again. "Yeah. I know you would never hurt him."

Greg looked down at the table for a moment, pondering. "No, I never would."

Catherine smirked. "Alright, enough with the hearts and flowers, it's making me nauseous. Sara needs your help at a scene. Here's the address."

Greg stood straight and snapped her a salute and a saucy wink before taking the slip and going, not catching the massive eye roll going on behind him.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Despite his unstoppable…giddiness at his new situation, Greg was a bit anxious. He typically assumed he was considered a pretty laid back individual, but the truth of the matter was he simply internalized most of his insecurities. So, as he worked the scene with an often smirking Sara, he cautiously pondered what it was that was happening between him and his handsome Texan friend. He knew it was too early to make declarations or commitments, but they really hadn't even set any ground rules. They'd admitted there was something between them, but hadn't defined parameters. What it came down to was that Greg desperately wanted to spend time with Nick again tonight, but didn't want to seem desperate or needy or cloying or any of those other adjectives that generally describe those who don't abide by the 24 hour rule. He was also nervous about pushing Nick further than he was ready to go physically. Despite the hooker aberration, Nick didn't do casual. And he'd never done another man. Greg sighed deeply. He would have to be very, very patient. He kept his phone in his pocket and resisted, with great effort, the urge to text Nick and invite him over after shift.

When he and Sara returned to the lab to log in their evidence at the end of their shift, he was disappointed to find Nick had already left. He thrust his hands deep in his pockets and felt his shoulders creep up to his ears as he shrugged to himself and ambled out of the building. Patience. He had to have patience.

Or, apparently, not. When he pulled up to his apartment complex, he saw his favorite Texan leaning against the wall beside his front door with a bag of Chinese takeout resting on the ground beside his casually crossed, booted feet. Turning off his car, Greg let his hands rest on his thighs for a moment as he soaked in the image and allowed himself to bask in a ridiculously happy glow. He pushed his aviators up his nose and tried to play it cool as he made his way to his door. As he put the key in the lock, he pulled the aviators down far enough to survey the grinning man before him over the top, allowing his gaze to heat as it traveled slowly, causing a faint tinge of pink to creep up Nick's neck as he shifted uncomfortably under it's intensity. Greg chuckled as he led him inside and walked into the kitchen, reaching into a bowl on top of the fridge and pulling out a key on a casino key chain. Without even pausing he tossed it at Nick, who caught it in mid-air with a questioning look. He held the key up between thumb and forefinger, his raised eyebrow looking for an explanation.

Greg merely nodded once, calmly. "Yours," he stated quietly, as if that explained everything.

Nick looked from the key to Greg, watching him begin to shuffle a bit nervously and fidget with the strap of his bag. He put the Chinese down and pocketed the key before stepping forward to relieve Greg of his messenger bag and wrap his hands around the small of Greg's back possessively.

Nick lifted an eyebrow. "Mine?" he asked seriously.

Greg bit his lip as he met Nick's eye. "That, too."

Nick pecked him on the lips and smiled. "Hungry?"

"Starved," Greg smirked.


	12. Chapter 12

a/n. Still don't own. Warning: smut ahead. (what can I say, I was in the mood ;)

**Puzzled**

**Chapter 12**

Greg woke slowly to the soft touch of a calloused hand running over the inside of his wrist and the palm of his hand. Without opening his eyes he smiled and stretched, lacing his fingers through the hand as the leather of his sofa creaked under him. Grinning, he looked up from the lap where his head had apparently fallen when he'd drifted off. Nick smiled softly back.

"You know you snore, right?" Nick grinned.

"I absolutely do not," Greg responded, pretending offense through a giant yawn. "Mmmph. How long I been out?"

"Not long." Nick watched with increasing interest as Greg rose and stretched again, a narrow band of skin revealing itself between loose jeans and tight tee shirt. Greg raised a speculative eyebrow as he noticed the look on Nick's face.

Patience, indeed.

Greg turned and angled himself over Nick, resting a hand on either side of Nick's shoulders and bringing himself nose to nose with the man, noting the blush and dilated pupils. He flicked his gaze down to Nick's mouth to see him bite down on his bottom lip. Greg took a deep breath and climbed onto Nick's lap, one knee falling to each side of narrow hips. Nick licked his lips and let his eyes flutter shut as he slowly ran his hands up Greg's thighs to rest on denim clad hips, thumbs seeking and finding the skin under that tee shirt. Greg hissed as calloused thumbs made circles there.

Nick opened his eyes and smiled. "Really?"

Greg opened his eyes and smirked. "That's one of my favorite erogenous zones."

Nick stuck out his bottom lip in thought. "I didn't realize it was one. I mean, I knew it was adjacent to one…."

Greg licked his lips and slowly moved his knees to the floor between Nick's sock clad feet.

Nick's eyes widened.

Greg smiled and watched Nick through his lashes as sat back on his haunches, his own hands falling to Nick's hips.

"You trust me, Nicky?" He looked the man squarely in the eye.

Wide-eyed and slack jawed Nick nodded, never breaking eye contact. "Always," he said softly.

"If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say. I would never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable."

Nick cocked his head. "Gorilla-grams aside, you mean?"

Greg chuckled. Then the fingers and thumb on his left hand worked to pull a tight black tee shirt out of a denim waist band and explore the warm skin underneath.

Nick let his eyes flutter shut and his head hit the back of the sofa.

Greg smiled and popped the button on Nick's jeans.

Nick's eyes popped open and he sucked in a sharp breath, eyes on the ceiling. Greg slowed, waiting for any sign he should stop. Nick looked down at him and bit his lip again.

And Greg took it upon himself to demonstrate just how sensitive the inside of a man's hipbone could be. Pulling jeans down just enough to completely reach it, Greg alternated between sucking, licking, and nipping that four inch section of skin until Nick had been reduced to a panting mess.

Nick dropped one hand on Greg's shoulder and his other he dropped over his eyes. He licked his lips and bit his bottom lip again. He couldn't believe how good this felt. Greg hadn't even come close to his cock, and if this went on much longer he was going to lose it, regardless.

Greg looked up to gauge Nick's expression and smiled before sucking hard on the skin below him. Nick sucked in a deep breath, and Greg knew he'd almost won the battle. He brought one hand up and slowly ran the heel of his palm over the still denim encased erection just beyond the bare skin he was abusing.

And the battle was won.

Nick stifled his cry as the hand on Greg's shoulder fisted the tee shirt there.

Greg kissed the skin again before sitting back on his heels, giant grin lining his face.

Nick peeked out from beneath a hand, and then let his hand cover his eyes again.

"I think I proved my point?"

Nick peeked again from under the hand still covering his eyes and nodded as he adjusted his pants uncomfortably and grimaced. "Christ, that's mortifying," he said, just barely audible.

Greg's grin slipped. "Mortifying?" he whispered, nervous.

Nick looked at him again from under his fingers, sharply, hearing the tone in that one word. He smiled. "I haven't come in my pants since middle school," he said, blushing.

Greg's grin returned, full force. "Oh." He stood and grabbed at Nick's hands, pulling him to his feet. "Go take a shower. I'll throw your stuff in the wash."

Nick protested a bit, but eventually gave in, realizing a hot shower would feel really good right now. Greg let him have his privacy as he shucked his clothes and stepped into the shower, meaning to grab them as soon as Nick was hidden behind the shower curtain. When the door clicked open, Nick popped his head around the curtain and eyed up the man reaching for the clothes he'd placed on the vanity.

"Hey, Greg?" he queried.

The other man turned to look at Nick out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah? You need anything?"

Nick beckoned with a finger. Greg dropped the clothes and a strong hand fisted in the front of his tee shirt, bringing his lips in reach and his head and shoulders in range of the spray of the shower.

Greg grinned. "Dude, you're getting me all wet."

An evil smirk lined Nick's face for a split second before he acted. With one tug he had a fully dressed CSI in the shower with him, hot water flattening his dark blond hair and molding his shirt to his torso as a look of delight and incredulity lit his face.

"Oh, yeah?" Greg said in challenge, as he moved, backing Nick into the wall of the shower and trapping him between the forearms Greg rested on either side of his head. One quick flick of his eyes down the torso and Greg dove for Nick's mouth as Nick fisted the hem of his tee shirt, this time trying to work it over the other man's head. Eventually, breaking contact with Nick's mouth, Greg pulled the shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor of the shower in a wet heap. He stood back a bit and watched curiously as Nick slowly ran his eyes and hands over the newly exposed skin, seemingly in awe. Greg wasn't sure he'd ever been held in that kind of gentle reverence before, and he found it both humbling and horribly arousing. But he still needed to tread lightly, he thought groggily as rough thumbs brushed softly over stiff nipples and dark chocolate eyes pierced his, gauging his response and stowing it away as any good investigator would. Greg groaned and took Nick's mouth again as Nick hooked his fingers through sodden belt loops and pulled their hips closer, hissing at the contact of wet denim against his own arousal.

This wouldn't do.

He popped the button on Greg's jeans and started inching the wet denim down his hips as Greg continued to attack his mouth, though smiling.

Halfway down his hips he realized something: there was nothing underneath but warm skin.

"Commando? Really? All day?" Nick asked, eyes wide, as he thought about working along side Greg all day.

Greg smirked as he moved his mouth down the side of Nick's neck. "Complaining?"

Nick let his head hit the shower wall and his eyes close as he relished the feeling of that mouth on his skin and the skin of naked hips beneath his fingers. "Absolutely not," he hissed through gritted teeth. After a moment of dizzying arousal, he set back to work at ridding the body before him of the rest of that wet denim, Greg taking pity on him and helping him out, the denim joining the wet shirt on the shower floor.

Nick pushed Greg back away from him just a bit, wanting to look, to see something he was familiar with but had never looked at in this context. Greg braced his hands on the shower wall and watched as Nick perused. "Meet with your approval?" he whispered, not wanting to break whatever spell the shower seemed to have woven.

Nick raised his eyes to Greg's, nodding, before lacing a hand through the damp hair at the back of Greg's head and pulling to join their mouths again. With his other hand, Nick moved from Greg's hip to his cock, taking another man's arousal in hand for the first time, ever, with a sense of purpose and awe.

Greg groaned into his neck, biting down at the juncture of neck and shoulder when Nick ran his thumb over the head. Nick smiled at how much he liked the reactions he was pulling out of this man.

Greg pulled back to look him in the eye again, as he reached behind him for a bar of soap. He made a quick lather and let it run down himself slicking himself and the hand around him. He leaned until Nick's hand was trapped between them and let the lather fall down Nick as well, before moving Nick's hand to encompass them both and covering it with his own. He kissed Nick, quick and rough, then rested their foreheads together so he could watch. Nick watched, too, until he got close. As the hands sped up, his eyes clamped shut and his breath came out in stutters. Greg looked at him through long, wet lashes.

"Nicky," he whispered, "look at me. Please," nearly begging.

Nick opened his eyes to look deeply into Greg's, and came as Greg did.

Leaning back against the wall and blinking rapidly, he smiled.

"Wow."

Greg kissed him once, softly. "Yeah."


End file.
